


Unfair

by bottomchanyeol



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: (is that a thing?), (yeah, Choking, Frottage, M/M, Nothing much really, Orgasm Denial, Pet Names, Very mild D/S Play, a little bit of fluff so it’s not totally pwp, channie’s antics, coming while still wearing clothes, dirty talk (?), it probably is), just chansoo sexy times, oh and red-head yeollie!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 02:30:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9102535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bottomchanyeol/pseuds/bottomchanyeol
Summary: Kyungsoo has been lied to, hoodwinked and bamboozled.- This fanwork was written for round 1 of the bottom!Chanyeol fest [2016].





	

**Author's Note:**

> hiiiii, everybody!!! My first participation in a fic fest ever, and the result is this T_T I promise to make it better later! The past five months were busier than ever with uni crashing in on my head like a huge tsunami. It’s not the best, but I really put my mind to work for this fic, so please enjoy it, everyone!!! Last but not the least, thank you to the mod!!!! Thank you for your never-ending patience omg, and my beta T, for holding my hand through these rough times.

Their actions are slow tonight. Kyungsoo starts with languid kisses at the edge of Chanyeol’s jaw as soon as he shuts the door and drops on the bed, just soothing touches of his lips, laying on top of him heavily, half clothed because he couldn’t find it in him to undress fully. His eyes are lidded more due to exhaustion of continuous schedules than passion, but it’s still there, the need to feel more, feel everything faster. Chanyeol sighs into his hair and his hands travel everywhere, fingers deft, practiced, knowing. Kyungsoo’s body is oft charted for him, marked by many times of lovemaking, hurried before, but relaxed today.   
  
It’s nice knowing that the next day won’t greet them with blaring alarms and races to the shower, and queues to get rid of morning breath, and that they can leave marks on each other without the other members starting at them, or make-up noonas raising their eyebrows off their foreheads. Kyungsoo is half hard in his pants but too worn out to do anything about it. Sleep is coming to him in meanders, and for once he’s ignoring his growing arousal to catch it.  
  
“Tired?” Chanyeol whispers in Kyungsoo’s ear, licking the shell of it then angling his head to kiss Kyungsoo’s neck. He rubs their pelvises together deliberately, and it’s good to know that the proximity affects them the same after days. 

 

“Mhm, of course.” Kyungsoo says; he can still see today’s camera flashes behind his eyelids. He takes a moment to bask in it, their intimacy, skin on skin contact; this feels foreign despite the nature of their job dictating them to stay with each other most of the time. It’s been five weeks— Kyungsoo thinks back to their last time making out in the green room—since he’s had Chanyeol’s warm breath fanning his face, Chanyeol’s hands covering his, Chanyeol’s weight against him, pushing and pulling, so close that he can smell his heat.   
  
“Tickles,” Kyungsoo mutters, arching his neck to stop Chanyeol from kissing him into laughter. He pushes at Chanyeol’s shoulders to face him properly, trying but failing to breath steady. They pause, stare at each other for a long second, meet in the middle for an open-mouthed kiss, tongues sliding over each other’s. Kyungsoo catches Chanyeol’s lower lip with his teeth and tugs, and Chanyeol’s following groan reverberates through his skull. Kyungsoo desperately wants the moment to last forever, their lips connected and moving in tandem, limbs entwining, just being  _close_  like this is enough and Kyungsoo wants to stay here.

“I wanted to try something,” Chanyeol says when they part, “If you’re not too tired, that is.” It’s his habit to suggest dumb things in the middle of the good things, like how they should try meat ice-cream when they go to Japan again, or how they should get on a skateboard  _with their legs tied_  at least once in a lifetime because it may be worth the fall? when all Kyungsoo is trying to do is get some sleep in his warm arms.

“Tell me, then we will decide,” he says as a way of not outright denying him, because his eyes were already shut, and dreamland was calling. What Chanyeol says next has them flying open, has his brain alert and him fully awake. Kyungsoo stares at Chanyeol with his eye-white on full display.

“ _No._ ”

Chanyeol rises, his red hair forming a halo around his head due the diffused lighting in the room. “Why?” He whines, “I want to try it right now.”

“Not right now, or _ever_.” Kyungsoo says with what he hopes is some finality in his voice, because he never  _ever_ even wants to think about what’s Chanyeol’s just suggested. “I am not doing it.”

Chanyeol pouts, gives him those puppy-dog eyes and that lip-curling thing that Kyungsoo secretly loves seeing on his Instagram during shooting breaks. “Please,” he says, and Kyungsoo just now realises that his hands were limp at his sides, when Chanyeol brings them up to his cheeks. “For me?”

 

“I am not going to  _hurt_ you.” Kyungsoo bites out, removing his hands, and tries to turn to his side, but he’s caged in the huge Park Chanyeol who refuses to let him move.

 

“It’s not hurting!” Chanyeol protests after him, and this is so like  _him,_  insisting till he gets his way. Groaning and moaning till he’s happy with the result. Kyungsoo suppresses another bout of embarrassment when an image of Chanyeol gagged and shuddering beneath him as he fingered him open flashes in his mind— _that_ had been Chanyeol’s fault, too, and _this_ will be, as well. A mistake, if Kyungsoo was to harshly dub it as one, for the number of images Chanyeol’s ‘favourite kinks’ generate at unfortunate times.

 

Kyungsoo is determined to not let that happen today, mind set on making _Chanyeol_ give up. “Good night and sleep well.” He wishes the air and plonks a pillow over his face, because Chanyeol won’t get up from where he’s sitting on Kyungsoo’s waist, won’t let Kyungsoo block the whole situation out. Needless to say that all sleep is lost for him tonight.

 

 

“But it’s the _best_ ,” he whispers and Kyungsoo is caught between two things to say next: _How do you know, have you tried it before?_ and _You say the same thing for your cereal boxes at supermart, too_. Instead he inhales sharply and steels his resolve. He commits a blunder by removing the pillow to give Chanyeol a _look_ because then Chanyeol is going on about how Kyungsoo is always doing this anyway, on reality TV, in the dorm, in front of the members, he _always_ chokes him for fun, so he doesn’t see what difference it would make if they try it in the bedroom? _He’s sure it’s safe._   

 

Choking. _Choking_.

 

That’s not… what Kyungsoo thought when he thought of this before, but now it will always be what he thinks when he thinks of this. Once more, Kyungsoo is torn between asking Chanyeol what he feels during their normal rounds of roughhousing and hiding back in back in his pillow.

 

“It’s a rush.” Chanyeol explains, “The thrill of your air being in someone else’s control. Complete trust. Heady pleasure when you release.” He finishes, and Kyungsoo’s not really listening to him, just watching his lips move from where he’s left under Chanyeol to wiggle and squirm. Chanyeol licks his lips, “So? Will you do it for me?” 

 

Chanyeol cheats, more often than Kyungsoo would like admit that he knows this, just by including a simple ‘ _for me’_ at the end of his sentences. Because he knows, and Kyungsoo hates that he’s so whipped he gives in every time. Looking up into Chanyeol’s honest eyes one last time before throwing his arm over his face, he relents. “How do you want it?” he squeaks out, voice muffled by his pullover.

Chanyeol’s probably preening right now, but Kyungsoo isn’t watching, lets himself be rearranged as Chanyeol switched their positions; Kyungsoo on top, Chanyeol beneath him, long limbs tangling with Kyungsoo’s short ones everywhere. 

_Standard_ , is all Kyungsoo can say about how Chanyeol takes Kyungsoo’s hands in his’. “There are other ways we could do it, but you’re a beginner,” Chanyeol explains, and smiles his giant smile. _Oh, and you’re not?_ Kyungsoo would like to ask, but he’s placing a kiss on Chanyeol’s nose and saying, “Less talking, more doing.”

And Chanyeol seems content to follow through, placing Kyungsoo’s hands better on his neck, thumbs rubbing over the sensitive skin, skin that colours way too easily with the application of slightest pressure. Kyungsoo analyses, just like would have dissected a math problem in class, what this is all about. Surprise and anticipation, patience and frantic chase. Control and submission. 

He is playing with prospects, deep in thought, when Chanyeol sucks a breath in to say something, and Kyungsoo’s thumbs go to his Adam’s apple on reflex and _press_. Chanyeol stiffens under him, speechless, surprised. Silence ensues. Then, he pulls Kyungsoo down and gives a short kiss, says, “Just like that. For me.”

Kyungsoo understands, there are no doubts when he does it for the second time, the third, the fourth, fifth, kneading the flesh gently; his actions are sure and Chanyeol gives more reaction, gasps for air like his blood was set on fire. It’s a two-way thing, because Kyungsoo suddenly feels out of breath, too. 

“How is it?” He asks, thumbs feeling the gentle bob of Chanyeol’s throat as he swallows. “Anything else I should do?” Chanyeol looks at him with glassy eyes, and in that moment, seems so delicate, so _soft_ that Kyungsoo feels that he could break him under his fingers.

“A l-little faster _please_ ,” Chanyeol stutters, after the air fills his lungs. He looks like a wreck, with sweat already matting the fiery red of his hair to his forehead, lips open and breath coming hard. And it’s the _please_ that does it for Kyungsoo, sends a streak of arousal down his spine; it makes him remember what needs to be done to make this better, hotter than it already is. 

“Off.” Kyungsoo pats the remaining clothes on Chanyeol, voice thick with arousal. He starts with his own dress-shirt, but Chanyeol grabs it and Kyungsoo shifts to Chanyeol’s. This is how it goes between them; Kyungsoo gives the instructions, no pleas involved, but Chanyeol doesn’t need them either as he is more than happy to comply, always. 

Chanyeol swallows again, and it’s only when he lifts his hips to remove his jeans that Kyungsoo knows how affected by this he is. The friction of his cock with Kyungsoo’s crotch is delicious, and Kyungsoo bucks downward on instinct, seeking it. His fingers move to grip Chanyeol’s neck better, from the sides now and squeeze harder than before. Chanyeol gasps and a low moan echoes from his throat to Kyungsoo’s fingers, and Kyungsoo moans back. 

They continue working each other up like this, Kyungsoo’s fingers massaging Chanyeol’s neck, and Chanyeol’s roaming Kyungsoo’s body, touching skin where it’s bare. His hand slips under Kyungsoo’s shirt and grips the small of his back, and Kyungsoo presses longer, four seconds approximately. Chanyeol whines, pushing up for more, _more, please more, fucking hell Kyungsoo,_ but Kyungsoo won’t go there yet. It’s all about taking control anyway. He won’t give without making Chanyeol, 

“Beg for it. Say it using words, baby.”

Chanyeol moans at the nickname; it’s something Kyungsoo only lets slip when they’re about to have sex. Kyungsoo reaches back where Chanyeol is roaming his hands and pins them behind Chanyeol’s head, a silent way of telling him to keep them off, _don’t touch until I tell you to_. This is also how he tells him to not speak, not _come,_ not do anything until he has Kyungsoo’s permission for it. At least that’s how Chanyeol thinks about it. 

Chanyeol stills where he’s grinding against Kyungsoo, and seems to consider for a minute. Kyungsoo’s hands are back on him the moment he starts articulating a word, and _oh—_ so that’s how they’ll be playing this. Well. Chanyeol is more than game. 

Chanyeol sucks in another breath, trying to speak again but feeling the resistance. Kyungsoo is staring back at him, eyes challenging, before he leans down and plants an open-mouthed kiss on Chanyeol’s chin.

“Words, baby, use your words well, and tell me.” Then he goes again, alternating the pressure of his fingers so that Chanyeol is left unable to say anything, just make broken sounds from the back of his throat. Chanyeol’s breathing hard and harsh when Kyungsoo stops, utterly turned on and slotting his thigh between Kyungsoo’s legs, when Kyungsoo lays a hand on it to stop him. He pins Chanyeol with another sharp glare.

“Be good, now, angel, don’t buck your hips, otherwise I’ll stop.” He says, dragging his hand back up slowly, bringing Chanyeol’s shirt with him till his pectorals, then softly up his face. He pulls at Chanyeol’s cherry-coloured locks, first light, then harder. The tugs only serve to arouse Chanyeol more but he can’t move because Kyungsoo _can’t stop_ now; Chanyeol’s way too much on edge, and he _just_. Needs to come, right now.

“Y-you,” Chanyeol manages in the time Kyungsoo is fisting his hair, “Need to fuck me.”

“Uh-huh.” Kyungsoo doesn’t even have a hint of a question in his voice, he knows Chanyeol needs it the most right now, and even if he needs it just as much, Kyungsoo isn’t gonna show, “Wrong answer.” Because Chanyeol is the one who is all needy and oversensitive on every touch of his, a moaning mess like this that Kyungsoo can just continue watching, watching, without thinking about himself.

He grips the front of Chanyeol’s collar, watching his plump lips part beautifully, “You know, baby,” He drags the syllables like he knows Chanyeol like them, “I’m not drowning.”

Chanyeol’s falls open even more, and Kyungsoo knows that he’s about to come. He stalls it for a while, teasing, edging until Chanyeol whimpers louder, says things when he’s supposed to be silent. After what feels like an eternity to Chanyeol, Kyungsoo drags the zipper of his jeans down and hushes into his ear, “Come for me, _sweetheart_ ,” that Chanyeol is releasing into Kyungsoo’s hand, seeing white behind his eyelids, because it just feels so fucking _good_ , shivering, yet his body feeling like it’s on fire. Kyungsoo comes soon after, the visual of Chanyeol looking completely wrecked and writhing beneath him from his orgasm too much for him. 

They collapse after it, limbs limp and clothes dirty, but neither of them have the energy to move from their current position. They’re not cuddling, because that’s not something they like to do, but Kyungsoo is rubbing gent circles over Chanyeol’s arm, and Chanyeol is regaining his breath.

Chanyeol speaks first, when he’s recovered enough, and slid out of the subspace, “You did so well.”

Kyungsoo shifts, a quirk forming between his eyebrows “I did? Chanyeol _you_ did so well that.” He refrains adding anything to that, knowing that Chanyeol will shift to his smug self if he says _you did so well that I had to stop myself so many times._

Chanyeol just hums and sounds content. “There was just one problem, though.”

When Kyungsoo doesn’t say anything, he goes on, self-prompted, “I didn’t tell you my safe-word.”

Kyungsoo jolts up, “Shit, and I forgot to ask for one, shit, I’m so sorry Chanyeol. Are you hurt anywhere? Did I—” 

Chanyeol shushes him, smiles his sunny smile at Kyungsoo, and Kyungsoo feels only his worry melt away, not his guilt. “You were perfect. Doing exactly what I wanted.”

Still, Kyungsoo writes a firm mental note to his future self to always, _always_ , ask for a word the next time this is happening. Wait, what? 

“We can use it the next time~” Chanyeol says, as if reading his mind, “Can’t we?”

_This guy, really…_ “There won’t be a next time.” Kyungsoo chides, knowing full well that there will be, and he’s enjoy it the same, or even more than he did today. 


End file.
